Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Joseph Cornell's, 'Rose Hobart'

Joseph Cornell's 1936 surrealist film, Rose Hobart, dedicated to the star of East of Borneo was first shown as part of an art exhibition in which Dali is quoted as saying that it is as if Cornell had stolen the film from his unconscious. In its reliance on dream logic, repetition of images and music Cornell's film really echoed the famous 1928 surrealist film un chien andalou directed by Dali and written by Luis Buñuel. Commenting upon the associations of the moon with night, vision, the dream and the unconsicous, Dali's film features a notable scene of the moon interlaced by a woman having her left eye sliced horizontally by an unknown hand. Although perhaps not as shocking as un chien andalou, Cornell's layering of the repetitious music, deliberate slowing of the projection speed evokes the experience of one suspended in a dream state, encapsulating how one might cinematically represent the subconscious memory of the plethora of visual images we encounter in everyday life. As Victor Burgin's essay "the remembered cinema" suggests the repetition of images from cinema in our every consciousness or perhaps the scenes from East of Borneo in the montage such as when Rose Hobart moves towards the balcony enact what we may remember from popular media, they are fragments of images.



These carefully chosen, non linear sequence of images cut from the traditional jungle film, East of Borneo reflect mental process and the way memory, the consciousness and subconscious, carefully select images that we occasionally replay in our minds. Other moments in the film, when Cornell weaves in the image of people gazing up at the sky at the beginning of the film and then cuts to a clip from East of Borneo are akin to the distortions of one's own subjective experience in registering a particular memory. Slippages easily occur in the transition from the original text to the way we process visual information within the mental "interior", as Victor Burgin mentions in his article:


"These tend away from the causal linear progressions of secondary process thought towards the extremity of the dream - which, Freud emphasizes is to be understood not as a unitary narrative but as a fragmentary rebus....these residues are mental images." (Burgin, 14)


Box with image of Lauren Bacall

Bryan Frye's notion that the manner in which the screen of the film frames the actress, Rose Hobart is analogous to Cornell's boxes and can be contextualised within his penchant for making boxes dedicated to female actresses. Cornell seems to be seeking a dialogue between the actress for whom the work is intended and himself, the shots chosen inhabit a very active male voyeuristic gaze, particularly at the beginning as the camera moves so we see Rose lying on the bed, through a screen. The assemblage format of the film is almost like an archive of his obsession with Hobart, the clips for the piece carefully chosen by Cornell to evoke his creative idea for the film as a whole. As such his status as an isolated outsider artist, his insistence on the importance of childhood, is reminiscent of artists such as Henry Darger, who similarly through art sought to rearrange the world and recreate it from their perspective in a way thats very personal so much that we may never completely grasp the full resonance of its meaning.

6 comments:

Tracy86 said...

Yuye,
I was just reading the essay question about dreams - "a film is not the telling of a dream, but a dream in which we all participate together through a kind of hypnosis" - I loved reading your post in light of that. Rose Hobart is easy to classify as 'dream like', but I think your analysis of it as having 'dream logic' is more pertinent.
Thanks for an interesting read!
~ Tracy

Anna Stephens said...

Henry Darger is an interesting comparison to Cornell. Darger I think was so intent on creating a whole life through his work, a life that he could inhabit on a different, more imaginary level. I guess he had a kind of social paralysis from his childhood, and by compiling such a massive body of work, he must have been so invested in it, I can barely imagine.

You're right in saying that 'Rose Hobart' is a kind of 'archive' for his obsession with the actress, and I could see Cornell as attempting to live vicariously through his own film, a spectral presence lurking somewhere peripheral to the lonely woman he manipulates.

Emma Ruthy said...

Melissa mentioned in class last week that she suspects that Rose Hobart has stayed on people's minds, as we've all been returning to the film, after writing on more recent ones and generally writing on the film months after viewing it. Perhaps this has something to do with the dream like quality of it? I noticed that you wrote this post in September - did the film stay with you from months ago, or did you have to watch it again?

nicchelam said...

Un Chien Andalou is a great example of film that achieves that 'dream-like' quality- there's just such a brilliant randomness to the film!

Yu Ye said...

Emma,

I think the film really lingered in my mind, in that its kinda like one of those dreams you have that you forget when you wake up. But over the course of the day or week it emerges and you kinda try to make sense of it. Also the more I thought about the film, the more I understood it and I think its just really beautiful.

Ross Stewart said...

I like your discussion of Victor Burgin's essay "the remembered cinema" and the ideas of a remembered cinema as a result of it's repitition in popular media. I think that idea particular relates to King Kong, this film is so famous because it has been reproduced so many times.